


Frightened Enough

by cinder1013



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinder1013/pseuds/cinder1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the trip down river in Fellowship, Frodo contemplates his past relationship with Pippin and Merry, and wonders about a future with a certain Ranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frightened Enough

Frodo sat in the bow of the boat, watching the dense forest flitter past, as though it were moving, not they. He hated boats. There wasn't enough Brandybuck blood in him to like a boat. Ever.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Merry grab Pippin's cloak just before the foolish hobbit leaned over far enough to fall headlong into the river.

Pippin.

The young hobbit's nose was wet from where he had skimmed the water and he was laughing. Merry spoke sternly to him, not that it did much good. Pippin was still laughing. Silly hobbit. A young, beautiful, magnetic Took, who was going to get himself killed sooner or later just by sticking that aquiline nose of his just a little too far into where it didn't belong.

It was a shame. Frodo liked Pippin, quite a bit. Not as much as he had in his younger days, but Pippin's attraction was still undeniable. Merry could attest to that. Boromir could most likely attest to that. It made Frodo want to laugh. Imagine a man in love with a hobbit. Could it happen? Would it happen? Did handsome rangers who were engaged to Elvin princesses ever fall in love with blue-eyed hobbits with tortured souls? Just for a night perhaps?

Frodo snorted to himself.

It was common for young hobbits to be rather promiscuous, often experimental. It was a sign one was growing up when one settled down, only had one lover or two, maybe three, (but only if one was a Proudfoot) and started to think about, perhaps, having young hobbits, if appropriate. Definitely starting a garden.

So, truthfully, he had been involved with Pippin and Merry for some time.

He had gotten involved with Pippin first, back when he still lived in Brandywine Hall. Before orcs or elves or … rangers …

* * *

When he had been a young hobbit, it had become quite the game to steal mushrooms from Farmer Maggot. One day, as he was escaping with his bounty, being chased by Farmer Maggot's dogs, he tripped in a field and fell, scattering shrooms everywhere. Sitting up, he found that he'd fallen over the legs of a young hobbit, who was lazing about in the sun.

"I say," Pippin announced, for that's whom it was, sitting up, "what a pleasant fellow you are to bring lunch."

"If we don't run, Farmer Maggot is going to catch up with us, and then we will be lunch," Frodo warned.

"Well then, I suppose we should run for it. Pleasant day." Pippin stood, dusted himself off as though he hadn't a care in the world, helped Frodo gather up the mushrooms, and then they were off. By the time they stopped running, they couldn't stop laughing and by the time they stopped laughing, they couldn't stop touching. They made love all day in the sun.

So, it was rather a surprise when Frodo found out about Merry. Not that he expected someone as beautiful as Pippin to be without any other lovers, but hobbits are generally very courteous. Pippin really should have informed Merry before he took another lover, asked permission, perhaps even invited Merry to be a part of it. As a result of the slight, Merry hated Frodo. Frodo hated Merry back, for good measure. Pippin was oblivious, as Pippin was often want to be.

For five long years this went on, until the day Pippin fell into the Brandywine River. He was leaning over the edge of a boat then too. He fell in and the current took him, sweeping him downstream. It didn't take them long to fish him out, perhaps twenty minutes, maybe only fifteen, but by then he had swallowed a lot of water and he wasn't breathing. They turned him over on his stomach and pushed the water out of his lungs.

* * *

Frodo hated boats.

It probably bears mentioning a third time. Frodo hated, hated, hated boats. And Frodo was particularly not fond of Pippin being in boats. At least Merry had a hold of the fool by the shoulders now and he didn't look like he was going to let go anytime soon. The whole trip down river was upsetting his stomach to be sure. His nerves were a fright anyway these days.

Sam leaned forward and brushed the back of his neck. Frodo tried not to think about the possessiveness of that gesture. He appreciated Sam. He loved Sam. But…

* * *

So, they pushed the water out of Pippin's lungs and he finally started breathing again. It gave them all a good scare. After that Pippin was weak. An infection set in, some kind of pneumonia. He was bed ridden for months … without them.

Pippin always slept between the two of them, a maginal line baring them from one another. Perhaps Pippin understood more than he let on. Without him, Merry and Frodo were forced to face one another. At first they retreated to separate beds, but loneliness quickly set in. Finally, one night, as Frodo lay awake, shivering in the cold dark, too stubborn to go and find Merry, Merry found him. The sheet whispered as the other hobbit slipped into bed with him.

"I don't want you here," Frodo hissed, turning on his side and rubbing his fingers over Merry's arm, tucking the blanket closer around the other hobbit's neck.

"Well, I don't want to be here," Merry hissed back. He wiggled a little closer until he was flush against Frodo, their heads lying on the same pillow.

"Then perhaps you should go somewhere else."

Merry paused so long Frodo thought for a moment he had fallen asleep. "Do you think he'll get better? He's not going to …"

"Don't say things like that. If you say them, they'll come true."

"You're as superstitious as your uncle."

"Go to sleep. Don't keep me up or I'll kick you out of bed."

Nothing more was said that night. After that, Merry came to Frodo's bed every single night and not a word about it was said between them. They spoke of Pippin if they spoke of anything.

Pippin finally improved and was returned to them. There was much rejoicing. Much very joyous rejoicing against the very explicit instructions given to them by the healer. No one could turn Pippin down when he set his mind on wanting something. Frodo smiled, remembering.

Eventually they, all three, had grown up. Well, Frodo and Merry had grown. Pippin could be as childish as ever. It was part of his charm. Frodo moved away to live with Bilbo and the three of them, although still affectionate, were not the triad they had been in their youth. It was simply true that Merry loved Pippin more. Even Frodo, once he had matured, could see that.

He looked back. Sam looked a trifle green. Strider paddled on, some sort of machine, content to let the long oar dip, swish, lift, dip, swish, lift over and over again, all day long. He never tired. Would he be as stalwart if he carried the ring? He was strong and true and stout of heart. Surely the ring could not corrupt him. Frodo slipped his hand inside his shirt, feeling his burden, the hot, heavy stone about his neck. He could not carry this thing into Mordor. Maybe he should give it to Strider…

Aragorn…

How could he burden beautiful Aragorn with something so evil?

Pippin's laughter distracted him once again. Frodo looked across at their boat, afraid of what he might see. Boromir was using his paddle to splash water at the two hobbits in his charge. They were both laughing. Frodo hadn't heard Merry laugh in some time, not since before the mines of Moiria.

"Boromir," Aragorn admonished. "Row, not play."

"We will get there, my friend," Boromir argued. "Gondor is at the end of this river. The current practically takes us there herself."

Aragorn snorted and paddled just a little faster.

Frodo smiled.

Legolas looked over and saw their fun, then looked at Gimli, a smirk twitching about his perfect pink lips.

"Don't even think it, elf," the dwarf admonished. "If I get wet, I'm tipping over this over-sized bucket and taking you with me."

"Hastiness breeds foolishness, master dwarf." Legolas' smile never wavered, but whatever he was thinking, he seemed to decide to bide his time. Gimli growled at him, turned back around, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared fixedly ahead. The hobbits tried not to giggle. Some succeeded better than others. If Gimli heard them, he gave no sign.

Legolas suddenly stopped rowing. With his usual grace, he lifted his had and sensed the air. A shiver passed through his willowy frame. "We should stop for the night."

"There is farther we can go," Aragorn argued.

"We should not be without a fire after dark tonight," Legolas disagreed. "There is a dark wind. I sense it."

"We are not cowards, elf," Gimli growled.

"We'll stop for the night," Aragorn decided as though Gimli hadn't even spoken. They all made for the bank. Frodo breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"It'll be all right, Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered. "I'm sure it aren't nothin'."

Frodo looked back at him briefly, then looked across to meet Merry's gaze. The other hobbit knew. He understood. He always did. Pippin smiled.

Climbing out of the boat, Frodo tried not to touch the water.

"You're like a cat," Aragorn complained and lifted him easily, settling the hobbit on his hip like a child and carrying him to shore. Frodo stared distastefully down at the marshy bank. Aragorn laughed and continued to carry him all the way to the clearing where Boromir knelt, digging out a pit for a fire.

"Down with you. You're getting heavy."

Frodo slid out of Aragorn's arms to the ground. "Thanks." Shaking his head in amusement, the ranger wandered off to find firewood.

Pippin raced up to him. Grabbing Frodo's arm, he pulled the other hobbit as close as possible and hissed, "He so likes you." Legolas looked up.

"Pippin," Frodo admonished, "he's a man. Big people and hobbits don't mix." He whispered as quietly as he could. The elf looked away again, but Frodo suspected he heard every word, judging by the slight frown he wore.

Pippin pawed through the cooking supplies. When they made camp each night, the hobbits were in charge of cooking, which was a very proper thing for hobbits to be in charge of, in Frodo's opinion. "Oh, I don't know, sometimes they do." Merry and Sam joined them, their feet muddy. "Don't they, Merry?"

"Don't who, what?"

"Don't big people and hobbits sometimes mix?" Pippin hissed, elbowing his oldest friend.

"Oh…oh," he grinned at Frodo, "they do."

Sam snorted.

"Perhaps you should cook dinner before we all die of starvation," a crisp voice announced from directly behind them. The four hobbits jumped. Turning, they found Legolas standing close enough to feel their breath. His frown had deepened.

"Was just going about that," Pippin announced, hefting the frying pan in a manner that bordered on menacing. "If you'll get out of my way, we'll have a meal then."

Merry caught Frodo's elbow before he could follow Pippin and Sam to the fire. "Mordor is growing flowers as I speak this, but Pippin is right. You should go to him. Tonight."

"But, what if … I mean … and …" he babbled, unsure of himself.

"I've never known you to be timid, Frodo." Merry smiled and ushered him close to the fire. Just in time, the adventuresome Took among them had lent over too far and caught fire to his cloak.

That night, Frodo crept away from the warm pile of sleeping hobbits. They didn't seem to miss him. Pippin rolled closer to Merry and they tangled themselves together as though there had never been anyone between them. A frown line creased Sam's forehead, but he snuggled closer to Merry's other side and it disappeared soon enough.

Slowly, soundlessly, Frodo made his way to Aragorn. The ranger slept on his side, a sword in his hand. Before the hobbit even reached him, Aragorn's eyes snapped open. For a moment, they regarded one another.

"Yes?" the ranger finally whispered.

"I feel…safer…sleeping with you," Frodo told him, kneeling next to him.

"You're addled. Go back to your mates."

"I'm frightened. I think I'm finally frightened enough." They stared at one another a little longer. "Please."

Silently, Aragorn lifted the side of his cloak and Frodo crawled under it. "We will protect you, little hobbit. I promise you that. Nothing will harm you."

Frodo squirmed.

Aragorn ran his fingers, soothingly, up and down the hobbit's back, trying to help him to settle.

Frodo squirmed again.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" Frodo asked innocently.

"Squirming."

"I'm just getting comfortable. Why? Am I bothering you?" His eyes grew big and round, even bigger and rounder, in the moonlight. "Do you want me to leave?"

Aragorn groaned inwardly. How did he get himself into these things? "You don't need to leave." He tightened an arm around the hobbit's waist. "Just stop…squirming."

"Why? Do you like it?"

He stopped breathing. Those big, blue eyes, which for too long had been absolutely stricken with fear, were suddenly open and warm, hot. They were hot. Aragorn had never imagined they could be. Then Frodo squirmed again.

"I think you like it." He smiled shyly, looking up at the ranger through his long lashes. "I like it."

"You shouldn't … we shouldn't do this."

"Why not?" Frodo squirmed even closer, his lips parted expectantly. "I'm not a child. I'm over fifty years old and quite capable of taking care of myself. Well, you know, if the hordes of Mordor weren't after me."

"If that." Aragorn almost smiled, playing with Frodo's curls.

"You care for me too, admit it."

"You are strong and brave, Frodo Baggins. I admire that about you. We should be quiet. Legolas won't be able to hear the orcs coming, because of all the noise we're making."

* * *

A top a rock, above the camp, Legolas kept watch that night, but his ears were not as sharply attuned to the outside terrors as to the inside whispers. The deep voice of Aragorn and his clandestine lover burned his ears. Things more painful than orc arrows were happening inside the fellowship tonight.


End file.
